


Artless

by Transposable_Element



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Canon-Typical Sexism, Cryptic communication, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Political Alliances, canonical violence, political machinations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transposable_Element/pseuds/Transposable_Element
Summary: "Do you know, I once heard someone describe you as artless?""I don't know what you are talking about, Your Majesty.""Neither did he," said the king.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wishandripen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishandripen/gifts), [sigaloenta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigaloenta/gifts).



> A little treat for people who wanted Heiro.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She reads plays. She embroiders. She is artless, unwed, and useless."
> 
> \-- Erondites to Sejanus, _The King of Attolia_

When Heiro was 15 years old her father offered her in marriage to a middle-aged baron whose wife had died the previous winter. Heiro wondered why the baron was interested in her. She was no beauty; her dowry was paltry; with three brothers and an older sister Heiro was unlikely ever to become her father's heir; her father had nothing to offer politically or militarily; and her suitor already had his own heirs. What did he want with her?

Docility, Heiro surmised. A wife he could easily dominate. If not beauty, then charm and the sweetness of youth.

When the baron came to the estate to inspect his potential bride Heiro was ready for him. She had plucked her eyebrows so that her face looked crooked; she dressed in her most unflattering clothes; she quarreled openly with her mother and her younger brother; she hunched her shoulders as she bent over her embroidery; and she disagreed bluntly with her suitor when he condescended to give her his opinion of the play she was reading.

The baron went home without pursuing the marriage. Heiro’s father beat her, but her mother intervened, saying that it wasn't the girl's fault that she was so naïve and artless.

Heiro was reasonably certain that her mother knew exactly what she had done, but they never spoke of it.

A few months later Heiro’s sister, Themis, was widowed and came home to their father's estate. Themis was glad to be home and obviously relieved to be rid of her late husband. But their father quickly arranged a new marriage, and Heiro knew that her sister would do nothing to chase away a suitor.

"Even a bad marriage is better than none," said Themis, looking pityingly at her sister. "And how can a woman make anything of herself without marrying?" Heiro shook her head, glad for once that she was not the beauty of the family.

The next year Themis was widowed again. After two marriages, each lasting less than a year and producing no offspring, she might not marry again; men were superstitious about that sort of thing, despite the fact that it was only to be expected that a young girl married to an old man would become a widow sooner rather than later.

Later that spring, Baron Erondites came to the estate for a few days to confer with Heiro’s father, who did not seem to enjoy the visit at all. Heiro didn't know exactly what hold Erondites had over her father, but she had overheard enough of her elder brothers' conversation to know that her father was wholly at the mercy of Erondites and could not afford to deny him anything. After their guest departed, the whole family moved to the capital. Heiro’s father said that it was time for her to be presented at court, but Heiro knew that was not the true reason for the move. A widow, especially a young and beautiful one, might be useful at court—as the tool of Baron Erondites.

For the queen had been forced by political necessity to marry an Eddisian thief, a goatfoot so beneath her that the marriage could only be a punishment for both of them. The history between the two was notorious. The Eddisian had spied upon the queen and stolen from her for years until he was finally caught and she had his hand cut off. The new king could not very well care for or trust the woman who had maimed him, and, conversely, nobody could imagine the queen allowing him to satisfy his lusts upon her. The king would doubtless be in want of a mistress: someone pleasing and distracting; someone who could worm her way into his confidence; someone upon whom he would become dependent, and upon whose advice he would rely.

Or so the thinking went. 

From all that she had heard, Heiro surmised that the Eddisian goatfoot had married the queen as some sort of twisted revenge and that, as in the great tragedies, his revenge hurt him as much as it did Attolia. Common report said that the king had soon regretted his action; that he was lost, a foolish boy trapped in a prison of his own making. It was common knowledge that the king and queen had not slept in the same bed since the wedding night. It was somewhat less well-known, but not a secret, that the king's attendants and many of the palace staff took every opportunity to humiliate him. But after a few days at court Heiro began to see that her father and Baron Erondites, along with nearly everybody else at court, were wrong about him. 

Heiro wasn’t certain how old the king was, but he could not be much older than she. And yet, from what she heard, he had adventured all over Eddis, Attolia, and Sounis. He had done one impossible thing after another. He had stolen Hamiathes Gift; he had cheated death countless times. He could not be the buffoon that he pretended to be. Heiro wondered why nobody else saw this; eventually she concluded that they believed the king a fool because it was what they wished to believe.

The courtiers also wished to believe that he didn't care for the queen, and they were wrong about that, too.

And what of the queen? Most people at court saw her as an icon, an object of loyalty and devotion, of awe, of terror. A few, to their peril, saw her as an obstacle to work around or a pawn to be manipulated. The most astute saw her as a skilled politician whose every action was calculated to preserve and extend her power. But Heiro wondered about the beating heart concealed within the queen's icy bosom.

The queen pretended to regard the king with anger and contempt. She looked over his shoulder while they danced, and she seemed aloof, enduring this ritual until she was free to return to her throne. But Heiro saw, in the grip of their hands (her right, his left) a balance and a sympathy not reflected in their faces. 

After watching them for several evenings, Heiro still did not understand their relationship, but she knew that each had great regard for the other.

Why, then, did they pretend otherwise?

Heiro lay awake late one night pondering the situation. Clearly, this was internal, court politics. A fiction of rancour between the king and queen could not strengthen them contra the Medes or Sounis. The most likely object of these machinations must be Baron Erondites, the greatest internal threat to the queen's hold on power; Erondites or someone in his orbit. If she was correct, then the trap that Erondites was laying for the king played right into his hands. Judging by what she had seen, she doubted that Erondites would succeed; but not knowing exactly what the king and queen were about, she couldn't say how much damage they could do to Erondites, if any. In a way, it didn't matter. If they managed to seriously weaken Erondites, then his allies, including her family, would suffer. And if Erondites did manage to emerge unhurt, it would be because he had diverted any damage onto his allies—including her family. 

Perhaps there was something Heiro could do about that.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heiro and Eugenides dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without fail, Ornon could predict that the king would dance with the wrong people, the wallflowers, the younger daughters of weak barons...
> 
> \-- _The King of Attolia_

Heiro's family dined at court each evening and stayed on for the dancing. How else to put Themis in the king's way? But the king so far had not seemed to notice her.

One evening Heiro was standing with her sister as the king, who had already danced with his queen, circled the room looking for a new partner. When the king looked in their direction, Themis smiled boldly at him and drew back her shoulders to better display her figure. Heiro meanwhile stepped back, eyes down; but as the king came closer she glanced up and managed to catch his eye. The king extended a hand to Heiro and asked, “will you dance?” Themis’s mouth fell open in surprise. Heiro pretended confusion and distress as she took his hand. 

They executed the first few steps of the dance in silence. Then the king spoke. “Lady Heiro, isn’t it?”

“I'm surprised you know my name, your majesty," she said.

“I was speaking with your father earlier. He told me that you are a great reader,” said the king.

"Did he, your majesty? I wonder why he would say so to you. He thinks it a defect.”

“He did seem to think I would be more impressed by your sister's qualities. Short-sighted of him. What do you like to read?"

"Plays, your majesty. The great tragedies are my favorites, although I have never seen them performed."

"That's a shame."

"Yes. Archilochus said that only breath can give life to words. I sometimes read plays aloud for my father in the evening, with my sister if I can persuade her. We perform as best we can, but I'm sure it's nothing like real actors on a real stage."

The king smiled. "And do you have a favorite play?"

They danced the next figure while Heiro considered her answer. Finally she said, “ ‘The Mask of Amphitartes.’ “

“Ah. Power struggles. Betrayal. Evil triumphant. An unusual choice for such a young lady.”

“Perhaps, your majesty. But Pouliades was a great student of human nature."

“I suppose so,” said the king thoughtfully. "And in the play, which is your favorite character?"

Heiro pretended to think for a moment. "Anchises," she said.

"He must be a minor character. I don't remember him," the king observed.

"One of the lesser barons, who is forced by the Baron Erondites to ruin himself."

The king raised an eyebrow. "The Baron Erondites?"

Heiro wrinkled her brow. "Oh dear, is that what I said? A slip of the tongue. How embarrassing! Of course I meant Amphitartes."

"Of course you did. But now I remember Anchises. Why is he your favorite?"

"I feel for him, your majesty. He is the tool of the Baron _Amphitartes_ ," she said, with a self-deprecating smile. "The Baron triumphs, and in the process ruins Anchises."

"But is he not a willing tool?"

"Who can say what a man does willingly, your majesty? Who can say what may be driving him to acts that are hateful to him?"

The king tilted his head as if considering her words. "I see that you too are a student of human nature, Lady Heiro," he said.

"I try to be. But I have had little opportunity for it, your majesty. I only know my family and our circle—my father’s friends, and their families. A girl sees so little of the world.”

“Then you must make the most of what you see around you,” said the king.

And then he turned the subject of the conversation to the poetry of his own land, of which Heiro knew almost nothing. Enough had been said; they understood each other.

 

Heiro danced more that evening than any other before; despite the courtiers’ distrust of the king, his favoring Heiro with a dance made her interesting. “What did you talk about?” they asked. “Oh, plays and poetry,” she replied, to the disappointment of her interlocutors. Themis fumed silently.

It wasn’t until much later, when she had gone to bed, that Heiro allowed herself to think through the evening, weighing what she had conveyed, and what she had learned. It had been thrilling: the conversation, the double meanings, the feeling of finally being understood. The king already seemed aware that their father was pushing Themis at him; and he seemed unsurprised to know that Erondites was behind it. Heiro hoped that she had convinced him that her father was not to blame. In return the king had confirmed many of her suspicions. And, it seemed, he wished her to keep an eye on her family and their circle. She thought she could do that.

Heiro liked the king. But more than that, she liked the idea of mattering, not as a bargaining chip, but as a player, even a minor one, in the great game.

Perhaps it was for similar reasons that Themis seemed so eager to play the part she had been assigned. She had made it clear that she did not find the king attractive, but she relished the idea of having influence over him, and of having something more interesting to do than fend off advances from younger sons who couldn't afford to marry her.

Perhaps, Heiro thought, she and her sister were not so different; each, in her own way, wished to matter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More coming soon...Thanks for your patience.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erondites leans on Heiro's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I told their father to beat them both, and the younger one especially. She won't dance with the king again."
> 
> \-- Erondites to Sejanus, _The King of Attolia_

Heiro wondered when the Baron Erondites would notice that the king had been dancing with Heiro at least once every evening, but never with Themis. The baron spent most of his time at one of his villas, more than a day's ride from the capital. He rarely came to the palace, instead letting his sons play the courtier. But he must have his sources of information, and eventually he would learn that Heiro was standing in the way of his plans. She could only hope that he believed that she was doing so unwittingly.

 

Heiro knew that the game was up one morning when her father came to the door of the room where she and Themis were sitting together. Heiro couldn't decide which emotion was most prominent in his face: anger, sadness, frustration? He spoke to Themis first; she put down her embroidery and followed him. Some while later Themis returned, walking a bit stiffly but with her head held high and her face expressionless. Without being told, Heiro followed her father to his poky study.

All fathers beat their children; at least, so Heiro understood. Still, she was unprepared for what came next.

Without a word, her father dealt her a clout to the ear. Heiro gasped and tears came to her eyes before she even felt the pain of the blow. Her father was angrier than she had realized. Angry and afraid.

"You must not dance with the king!" he said, and hit her again, this time on her back.

"But if he asks me..." Heiro began.

Her father took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Make an excuse! Tell him to dance with your sister instead!" He didn't explain why, because Heiro wasn't supposed to know about the plan to make Themis the king's mistress. But in that moment she saw clearly that her father was far more distressed by this use of Themis than Themis herself seemed to be. Themis relished the chance to play an important role in the Baron's plans. For her father there was only the shame of selling his daughter to appease Erondites.

 

The beating wasn't as bad as the first blows had led her to anticipate, but it was painful enough. Afterwards, her mother made her lie down and applied ointment to the bruises on her back. The salve burned at first, but then it did seem to dull the pain. 

"You need not go to court this evening," her mother said as she began to lay cool, damp cloths over the anointed bruises.

"I don't mind going, mother," said Heiro. "And I don't think any of the bruises are in places that will show."

Heiro's mother paused, then sighed quietly. "Please take care. I think perhaps you don't realize how serious this is....How much is at stake...."

"I will take care, mother."

In the end, the whole family stayed home that evening. Themis did not seem badly bruised, but she declared irritably that there was no point in going to court when she was looking so ill. That was more than enough of an excuse for their father. Favored or powerful members of the queen's court had rooms in the palace, but not Heiro's family, who lived in chilly, dark rooms rented in the town. It was just as well, for nobody would know why they were not at dinner. Her father simply sent word that they were indisposed.

 

The next morning Heiro was stiff and sore but hid it as best she could, not wanting to give her father an excuse to forbid her to go to court that evening. The worst pain was in her jaw, which she had instinctively clenched when her father shook her. But by afternoon anxiety and restlessness were beginning to outweigh pain and stiffness, so she suggested to Themis and their mother that they go up to the palace, where they all had friends to visit. Themis agreed readily, and their father seemed only too glad to have them out of his sight for a few hours.

Once they reached the palace and were admitted by the guards, Themis and their mother went to the music room, where fresh gossip was always to be had. Heiro went to see her friend Lady Eunice, the youngest daughter of Baron Anacritus, who was a staunch ally of the queen and had well-appointed rooms at the palace.

Heiro and Eunice had met only a few weeks ago, when Eunice came with her mother from the country to join the rest of her family at court, but both had immediately sensed a kindred spirit. They had spent several afternoons together reading plays aloud and found that their tastes and opinions were similar, but not so similar that they couldn't have a good argument about interpretation. Eunice was lovely, with a heart-shaped face and fine dark eyes, and Heiro sometimes wondered why she wasn't envious of her friend's beauty, as she sometimes was of Themis's. 

Heiro and Eunice had discussed the king before, cautiously, though of course Heiro had not told Eunice of the plan to make Themis the king's mistress. But this afternoon, with the bruises still fresh on her back, she finally unburdened herself as much as she dared. 

"What am I to do? My father has forbidden me to dance with the king, and I can't just....What am I to do?"

Eunice looked at her worriedly. "You're not..."

Heiro waited a moment. "Not what?" she prompted.

"You're not in love with the king, or anything like that, are you?"

This question so shocked Heiro that she couldn't speak for a moment. "Of _course_ not," she said finally, but she was aware that it was probably what she would have said if it were true. "You do believe me, I hope. I would never lie to you," she added.

Eunice smiled, looking relieved. She laid her hand on Heiro's. "Good. Only the truth between us."

"But I must find a way to speak to him without my father becoming angry. Some way to refuse to dance, but make the king insist on dancing anyway," Heiro said.

They discussed strategy. A duck of the head at the right moment? Turning away without dropping the king's hand? Or saying no, but looking really, _really_ sad? What about a wink? After a while, it all seemed so absurd that they were both laughing.

As Heiro was leaving to rejoin her mother and sister, Eunice brought out a pair of fan-shaped gold earrings inlaid with lapis. "Here. You can borrow these." Everybody knew that the king liked pretty earrings. 

 

At first the evening went as planned. The king asked for a dance; Heiro demurred, ducking her head; the king insisted. But before the real dance of meanings could begin, the king spoke.

"Was the beating very bad, my dear?" he asked.

Heiro stumbled. The king had never been so direct before. How did he know about the beating? The next few minutes went by in a blur. In a moment, much that had been implied was made explicit. There would be no more dances with the king; that was clear. Heiro was surprised and pleased to know that he was concerned about her well-being, but frustrated at the same time. She had the presence of mind to suggest that the king dance with Eunice; that way, at least, Heiro would still have a window on what was going on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crowd came trampling across the flower beds, guards, nobles, servants.  
>  Eugenides made a noise. Costis bent his head to hear.  
>  "Arf, aarf, bark, bark, yap, yap," muttered the king.  
> 
> 
> \-- _The King of Attolia_

Heiro was visiting Eunice in her rooms at the palace when the commotion began. At first they thought nothing of the barking and shouts; Eunice's family's rooms were quite near the hunting court, and they often heard the dogs barking. The noise died down after a while, and then it started up again. But this time it was shouting and running feet.

"Let's go see what's going on," said Heiro.

The two girls ran down the corridor to a balcony that overlooked the hunting court. Something was very wrong, that was clear. Guards and servants and a few members of the court were running in all directions. Two courtiers hurrying past the balcony on their way downstairs told the girls that dogs had gotten loose in the hunting court and attacked the king. 

The girls looked down. There were no dogs in sight now, and no sign of the king, either. The hunting court was in chaos, but most people seemed to be running toward the arched gateway leading to the palace garden.

"I know a way to get up on the roof. Come on, we'll be able to see better from there," said Eunice. She grabbed Heiro by the hand and pulled her along the corridor. Heiro followed her friend up a set of stairs, across a little round windowless room, along a short passage, and then up another narrow set of stairs to the palace roof. 

Heiro and Eunice ran along next to the waist-high (or, to Eunice, breast-high) barrier at the roof's edge. A guard yelled at them to go back down but apparently didn't think it worth leaving his post to chase a couple of girls. 

They reached the section of the roof walk overlooking the garden. More guards rushed by them, and more courtiers were gathering along the barrier.

Eunice pointed. Two figures, one leaning heavily on the other, were trudging slowly through the garden toward the hunting court. It was the king, his left hand pressed to his hip, with one of his guards supporting him. A mass of courtiers and servants was swarming across the flowerbed toward the pair. As the girls watched, a group of people surrounded the king and his guard.

"There's your father," Heiro said, just as a shout went up. Eunice's father fell backward to the ground, taking a few other courtiers with him. A space opened up around the king. Now Heiro could see that there was blood on the king's coat and on the hand he had pressed against his side.  

"To the king!" yelled the guard. More guards rushed forward and began to form a phalanx around them. 

"That guard knocked my father down!" Eunice said indignantly.

"Somebody has attacked the king," said Heiro. "Not a dog -- a dog wouldn't have bitten his side. In a crowd like that, I suppose anybody could be a threat."

"He didn't have to knock him down!"

"He probably didn't even know who he was, Eunice. The person who attacked the king might have accomplices. That's why he called the other guards; they are sworn to protect the king, even if they don't like him."

"Oh," said Eunice.

"On the other hand, I think that's Lieutenant Ormentiedes. He's the one who hit the king, remember? Maybe he's got a taste for knocking down his betters." Both girls giggled. Heiro felt guilty. There wasn't really anything to laugh at, but she couldn't help it.

The phalanx of guards surrounding the king was approaching the hunting court. The two girls ran back along the roof walk. There were lots of people on the roof now, and in the court, and on the stairs below, as well as opposite the courtyard on the outer wall of the palace. Heiro noticed that it was still Ormentiedes who was supporting the king as he walked stiffly across the court, while the other guards maintained their cordon around them.

"Is the king badly hurt?" Eunice wondered. 

"Well...he's conscious, and he's walking. I suppose if he was really badly hurt he'd have to be carried. But..." Heiro trailed off as the king reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the palace doors. He was obviously having trouble climbing the stairs, lifting first one foot then the other onto each stair and pausing before attempting the next. 

By weaving in among the crowd, Heiro and Eunice had found a place right by the barrier and directly above the palace entrance. The portico and the top of the stairs leading up to it were out of their line of sight. The people down below and on the outer wall were whispering and pointing at something the girls couldn't see, so by the time the queen came into view on the stairs below, Heiro was not surprised to see her. But evidently the king was surprised, because when she touched him he started violently and almost fell. Gasps and chatter rippled through the crowd.

The king took the queen by the wrist, and some in the crowd hissed their displeasure. But what came next silenced everybody.

After a moment Eunice spoke. "By Philia, she  _kissed_  him...I mean, he kissed her, but she kissed him _back_!"

 _I knew it_ , thought Heiro smugly.

 

Once the king and his entourage entered the palace there was no way to watch their progress, so Heiro followed Eunice back to her apartments for an orgy of gossip with Eunice's mother and sisters.

About an hour later Heiro's mother and sister arrived. Having been at the opposite side of the palace they had missed the drama at the palace gates, but they had seen the king carried up the stairs to his apartments. Themis said that Philologos had told her that the king was hurt far worse than anybody had realized -- "split halfway across his belly," he had said. 

Heiro felt guilty at the way she had been gawking at him earlier. 

But it was hard to know what information to trust. All sorts of rumors were flying. Belatedly, Heiro realized that she had a job to do: observing, sifting information in case it might be useful to her family or the king (or, ideally, both). She resolved not to believe any rumors unless she knew and trusted the source.

Assassins. Who had they been working for, and was that person still a threat?

But just then her father arrived to collect his womenfolk. He smiled absently at Heiro, but she could glean nothing from his mood. The court would not be gathering tonight for dinner and dancing, so Heiro and her family left the palace and made their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Everybody_ laughs at Costis.
> 
> Eunice has been exploring the palace. The king gave her a few hints.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heiro visits the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I hope your father appreciates what a good friend you are to me."
> 
> \-- Eugenides to Heiro, _The King of Attolia_

The whole next day was very frustrating for Heiro. Her father ordered her and Themis to stay home, so except for a note from Eunice late in the afternoon, Heiro was in the dark about what was going on at the palace. The great news of the day was that the guards who were supposed to have been with the king when he was attacked, along with the captain of the queen's guard, Teleus, had escaped the queen's order of execution due to the king's intervention, and that afterwards the king and queen had fought. Heiro thought the fight was probably just another piece of theater, but how could she be certain? She chafed at her isolation.

 

Early the next morning there was a loud banging at the door. The bedroom Heiro shared with Themis had no window, so she tiptoed out and hid in the shadows at the top of the stairs to see who it was.

It was Baron Erondites, with a single guard as escort, demanding imperiously to speak to Heiro's father. The two men closeted themselves in her father's study and a little while later sent for Themis, who in the short time between the baron's arrival and the summons had managed to make herself more than presentable. From the corridor, Heiro listened to as much of the conversation as she dared.

Erondites did not stay long, and after he left, Heiro's parents and Themis made ready to go up to the palace. Heiro behaved as thought she assumed she was going with them, and nobody tried to stop her. 

 

Having no rooms of their own at the palace, the family waited in the music room while Themis made her way to the king's apartments. She was back almost immediately, and Heiro, who knew her well, could see that in addition to being angry, she was near tears. Heiro would have liked to comfort her, because whatever her motives in trying to see the king, Themis was feeling hurt and humiliated. But Heiro was too preoccupied with trying to seem bored. 

"May I go see Lady Eunice now?" she asked. Her father, who was holding a whispered conversation with Themis, impatiently waved at her and said "Yes, yes, run along." He would find out eventually that she had been to see the king, but there was no point in telling him now where she was really going.

 

For a moment Heiro was afraid of being turned away, but as the king's attendant Hilarion was telling her to be off, the king contradicted him from the inner room. Heiro passed through the guard room on her way to the king's chamber. Lieutenant Orementiedes was on guard (did he never sleep?), and she felt his eyes following her as she crossed the room. Whatever had possessed him to hit the king all those weeks ago, he was clearly the king's man now, body and soul.

The king looked terrible. His skin around his eyes looked bruised, there was a tinge of green around his dry, cracked lips, and his hair was a tangled mess. He started to hitch himself into a sitting position, and Heiro leapt forward to rearrange the pillows to prop him up. There was a pitcher of water next to the bed, and she poured some into a goblet for him. 

"You're very perceptive, Lady Heiro," he said, taking it.

"Thank you, your majesty."

"Do you know why I am talking to you and not your sister?"

"I think I know why you wouldn't see my sister, but I'm not sure why you agreed to see me," she said.

"A nice distinction. I want to ask your opinion."

"My opinion?" Heiro tried not to show her astonishment.  
  
"Yes. Do you think the Baron Erondites had anything to do with this?" he asked, waving a hand over his body.

"The attack on you? No, I don't think so," she replied.

"Why not?"

"Well, he had other plans. Plans to control and use you, your majesty. If he planned to have you assassinated, why bother with..."

"Why bother trying to make your sister my mistress?"

Heiro couldn't stop herself from blushing, but she managed to keep her eyes and her voice steady. "Exactly, your majesty. And...he did come to see my father this morning. You must have guessed that he sent my sister to try to see you."

"How did he seem?"

Heiro thought for a moment. "He doesn't give much away. But he did seem excited. His gestures when he spoke were...large and...not wild, but not as controlled as usual. His villa is more than a day's ride away, so to get here by this morning he must have ridden out as soon as he got the news."

Eugenides nodded.

"And then, when he was with my father in the other room, I did overhear a little of what they said," Heiro continued.

The king quirked an eyebrow.

"That is what you asked me to do wasn't it, your majesty? Observe?"

"Of course. What did they say?"

"I didn't hear much. But he did say something about turning the situation to his advantage. It sounded like something a person would say if their plans had gone awry."

"He could have meant the fact that I survived."

"That's true, your majesty. But I think...forgive me, but I think the Baron prefers you alive. He knows he cannot bend the queen to his will, but he believes you to be weak and...well, if you were gone, he would lose what he thinks is...a way to get to her. Or at her."

The king nodded. "What else did they say?"

Heiro dredged up every detail she could remember of the conversation, while the king listened intently. Then she asked, "Did you suspect him, your majesty?"

"No....but it is good to have another pair of eyes on the problem. As you can see, I am not very mobile at the moment."

"I am happy to be your eyes and ears, your majesty."

The king smiled. "And I am happy to have such a sharp observer at my service."

"Thank you, your majesty." Heiro decided this was the right time to take the plunge. "Your majesty...the last time we spoke, you asked why I thought you were worth saving."  
  
"I remember. You said it was because you have eyes in your head, but I presume it wasn't my beauty you were talking about."

"I'm afraid not, your majesty."

"Just as well."

"You _are_ worth saving, your majesty. My mother is worth saving, too. So is my sister."

Eugenides considered this. "And your father?" he asked.

"My father, also," she said. 

"Even though he beat you?"

"Yes."

"You would forgive him?"

"I may be better able to forgive him if I can save him first." The king looked unconvinced, so Heiro added, "Perhaps we should ask Lieutenant Ormentiedes for his opinion." She knew better than to mention the queen.

"That's different," he said. He was smiling now.

"I understand that it's different, your majesty. But do I really need to explain to you why I would wish to save my father?"

"I don't suppose you do..." The king thought for a moment. "All I can say is this: I don't know what hold Erondites has over your father, but clearly there is something. Your father must be ready to break with Erondites the instant it becomes possible for him to do so. You will know when the time is ripe, and so will he if you prime him. But when it's time, he must do what is necessary right away. The sooner the better. Understand?"

"I think so."

"If it's only a matter of money, that should be easy enough to resolve. He can find an ally of the queen's to buy his debt, or whatever it takes. If it's something else...well, he would do better to come to me about it, not to the queen."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"You had better go now, before your family starts wondering where you've gotten to," he said. Heiro didn't ask how he knew that she had come to see him without telling her family; perhaps it was obvious.

"Yes, your majesty."

But before she could stand up, he reached out and took hold of her hand. "I hope your father appreciates what a good friend you are to me," he said.

**Author's Note:**

> In rereading The King of Attolia I was surprised to find how little Heiro actually appears on stage. We see her in two conversations with the king, and she is mentioned in a couple of other conversations. That's it. And yet many readers remember her and want to know more. (Possibly some of us identify with a bookish wallflower? I know I do.) I hope this story scratches that itch.


End file.
